My interests narrow. Anything too cute, formulaic, or clever drop from my ability to navigate, whether podcasts, cable news shows, or anything from anyone a millionaire. Everything seems to be self-promotion and dollar-a-word contributors in three minute interviews lined up like cereal boxes for plucking on grocery shelves.
I can barely stand myself and any opinion I mutter.
Head-butting cat thinks
“He has skill to pour kibbles
Into bowl for me”
While on roof some animal
Scurries on asphalt shingles
The time for dissolving disappearance has unpacked its bag. The boarding house room has no closets. The loo is down the hall. We’re all visitors passing by with post office boxes rented for six months.
And the empty turns its face to us
‘I am not empty, I am open.’
(—Thomas Tranströmer, Vermeer)
At Sunday Evening Practice we read:
Spirituality is in its essence an awakening to the inner reality of our being, to a spirit, self, soul which is other than our mind, life and body… to enter into contact with the greater Reality beyond and pervading the universe which inhabits also our own being, to be in communion with It and union with It, and a turning, a conversion, a transformation of our whole being as a result of the aspiration, the contact, the union, a growth or waking into a new becoming or new being, a new self, a new nature.
(-Sri Aurobindo, quoted in From the Age of Spiritual Emptiness To Spiritual Fullness)
The cat, Chitta, has returned to her perpetual nap. Kibbles will magically appear in kitchen sometime soon. Yesterdays purchase of English muffins will find way into toaster. C-Boost swig will take regimen of pills into gullet. There will be cereal with Fairlife chocolate low percentage milk.
What if we lived inside-out? What if we dropped down through layers of dark unknowing, through Freudian, Jungian, Adlerian levels of psychological accretion, falling deeper through darkened consciousness, until…
Until arriving at no place recognizable or known, somewhere nowhere that is ground of being, divine source, vital emptiness, sheer presence. This would only echo Leonard Cohan’s “You Want it Darker” paean of end of search submission. At bottom, at end, if we remain in great doubt and great faith, there just might be longed for reality, love, truth, and radical unpossesive freedom.
We're talking deep here. Deeper than dark. Where no concepts of evil versus good exist nor make any sense.
Nothing but nothing-itself. An unseen silence. An unmanifest irredescent absence so full of surround and centricity there is no place that does not see you, and as Rilke concludes, "You must change your life."
Once, absent-mindedly, called 'God' -- now, simply: 'Called-Itself.'
But for the time being, Maine Department of Transportation digs up driveway at edge of road replacing culvert pipe that has rusted out.
That is one place I see.